


it's hard to say goodbye when i'm leaving

by rainydayscribbles



Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: Angst, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Feelings, Pining, Post-Break Up, bens pov, if devi broke up with him, literally just a look into his head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:53:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25900126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainydayscribbles/pseuds/rainydayscribbles
Summary: Devi was the most consistent thing in his life, from kindergarten to senior year of high school, and he’d had her in some capacity the entire time, whether it be enemies, friends, or lovers, and now, well now he doesn’t have her at all.
Relationships: Ben Gross/Devi Vishwakumar
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	it's hard to say goodbye when i'm leaving

**Author's Note:**

> hello this is just a post break up fic from bens pov! this fic is as organized as it is disorganized, chaotic as it is unchaotic, but that's what i get from writing this in the middle of my orgo lecture instead of taking notes :)))
> 
> also feel free to find me on [tumblr](https://ravenclawbutcrabby.tumblr.com/)! not much is going on there except me making shitty b/d gifsets and writing poetry, but i've decided that's my brand now. i'd honestly rlly love to talk to yall about nhie or literally just life fr 
> 
> title is from stay by khalid

Devi was the most consistent thing in his life, from kindergarten to senior year of high school, and he’d had her in some capacity the entire time, whether it be enemies, friends, or lovers, and now, well now he doesn’t have her at all.

It’s the summer after graduation, and he’s leaving for Yale soon, and she’s headed to Princeton. It should be refreshing, a new start, a clean slate, but he doesn’t want that. He wants tangled limbs and shared ice cream and cheap beer. 

It’s worst when they interact, and it’s never their fault, it _never_ is. They go out of their way to evade each other for the first month, walking the opposite direction in the narrow school hallways, pointedly not looking at each other in their shared AP classes, ignoring each other’s presence when they discuss valedictorian and salutatorian speeches with Principal Grubbs.

-

Their friends don’t help that much, though.

_“You guys are star-crossed lovers. Did Romeo and Juliet give up when they experienced a romantic setback? No, they persevered. Well, they died, but still, they persevered,” El insists, cornering him outside his acapella rehearsal._

_“Gross, you’re acting like a lesbian pining for her ex. Frankly, I haven’t seen this level of angst from a straight person before. It’s unsettling,” Fab informs him, hovering near his table at the library. “Stop staring at her so wistfully.”_

_“Devi and you were cute together,” Shira tells him. “Very Cece and Schmidt.”_

_“You need to get high, man,” Trent begins, meeting him at his locker. “Or drunk. Or crossed.”_

There's a lot of uncertainty for the next two months, but then it eventually progresses to awkward half conversations and hesitant texts which Ben spends an eternity obsessing over how to answer. He has a mini panic attack every time he sees her name pop up on her phone, staring at the notification for an absurdly long amount of time just to drown in the broken comfort he feels.

\- 

Then they’re graduating, and he’s suddenly hit with the realization that he might never see her again. Part of him knows he will, because Devi is an unstoppable force, a tsunami wave contained in a person, and she will leave behind destruction, small traces of her incredible wrath. 

But this particular day, he realizes he’s screwed the second he sees Nalini wave him over as he steps out of the convention center. He is forced to take a picture with Devi, valedictorian and salutatorian, and as scared of Devi’s mom as he is, he wants to try cussing her out for placing him in this situation.

Because it’s painful how easy it is to twine his arm around Devi’s waist, to be flooded with the scent of shea butter as she leans into him. It’s torturous to feel her hair against his cheek and not be able to run his hands through it, feel the waves he loves so much. It’s antagonizing to pull back and meet her eyes for a second as she makes a halfhearted jibe at his salutatorian medal, because he can barely process her words. He’s too focused on her gaze, the feigned delight there, and the way she _still_ smiles the same, and suddenly, his eyes are wet and he jumps away from her a little more quickly than socially acceptable. Later, when Devi sends him the picture, claiming her mom asked her to, all he can do is stare at himself in it, looking like the most pitiful combination of happy and sad he’s ever seen.

What baffles Ben most is how months' worth of kisses and tentative touches and forbidden confessions can disappear in a simple conversation, filled with phrases like _we need to move on_ and _long distance doesn’t work_ , and other ones which he is convinced somehow mean everything and nothing and something in between. It vexes him that she is doing fine, so relatively unaffected, so tranquil and peaceful whenever he sees her, so unlike how she usually is, and _so_ unlike how he feels.

-

Ben still follows her on Spotify, and he can see her listening to the playlist he’d persuaded her to make for the two of them when they dated.

_“We can like, share music! And songs that remind us of each other, and stuff,” he says, blushing just the slightest bit._

_“I don’t know, Gross,” she replies, looking perplexed. “We don’t listen to a lot of the same stuff.”_

_“So? This can be our opportunity to branch out.”_

_“You want me to branch out to 90s hip-hop? Because thanks, but no thanks.”_

_“That’s not all I listen to, oh my god.”_

_“You have the music taste of a sixty year old white dad.”_

_“At least it’s not a wannabe hipster.”_

_“You’re not getting the point!” she snaps, crossing her arms. “This is just like—like so disgustingly cheesy.”_

_“You know what else is disgustingly cheesy?” he asks, smirking. “Looking up the RBG color code that matches my eyes in your free time. What was it, again? 88 139 174?”_

_“Fine, you dick,” she bites back, half-hearted exasperation evident in her eyes. “I’ll make the goddamn playlist.”_

-

Ben can’t shake her no matter where he goes, and it's the worst form of fateful cosmic glitches he’s imagined.

He walks into the ice cream store they used to frequent to get a break from his house, an intermission from staring at four walls and trying to find ways (and failing) to stop thinking about her. 

There she is, in the tiny shop, looking through the glass quizzically even though he knows she’ll cave and get the same peanut butter sundae she gets every time. He thinks briefly, of leaving, but then the door chimes and Devi looks back at him and he feels as though he needs to prove something.

So, he strolls forward, and examines the ice cream inside the glass case a lot more deliberately than necessary.

She clears her throat hesitantly. “Um, hi.”

“Hi,” he responds after a few seconds, silently praying for the cashier to appear.

“How’ve—how’ve you been?” 

“Oh, fine. Fine. Doing great, honestly.”

“That’s, um, good.” She pauses. “You all set for college?” 

“Move in is still a month away.” Internally, he wonders if she remembers the exact date.

“Yeah, but, you know, just thought you’d be ready. To like, leave and all.” 

“I used to be,” he replies sincerely.

Devi voice is lined with fake amicability when she speaks. “Well, I’m excited for Princeton. I have a list of everything I need to buy, so I’m going shopping with El tomorrow. My roommate was gonna come, but then”—

“I can’t do this with you, okay?” he cuts in bitterly, turning to face her. “I can’t—I’m not ready to do this bullshit small talk. Not so soon.” 

She looks taken aback but when she speaks, her voice is strong. “It’s been three months, Ben.” 

“Ok, I’m sorry I can’t move on and be happy and joyful all the _fucking_ time like you,” he bites back, hating himself for the amount of hurt he lets bleed into his voice. “But that’s not—not the issue. I can’t talk about things like this, not after everything.” 

“I don’t know what else to talk about with you.” When she says it, it’s soft, dejected, and slightly regretful, but all it does is irk him more.

“Oh, you don’t? Well, you sure did when you broke up with me.” It’s a low blow, and he shouldn’t bring it up, not when she’s making an effort, but he can’t help it. “You knew exactly what you were saying when you wanted a fresh chance, to meet different people, and find brand-new relationships, didn’t you? This doesn’t really seem like finding someone _new_.” 

With that, he turns and pushes his way out of the shop, ignoring the way Devi looks like she’s on the verge of breaking down. He drives home as quickly as he can, climbs onto his bed, and lays there, limbs spread out, waiting for the tears to fall.

-

Over the next month or so, he debates going to her, to see her, to visit her at her house and get down on his knees and beg for her to take him back. But he’s tired of chasing after people who don’t want him, and so he shoves it away. Besides, he can’t make her do something she doesn’t want to do, and she didn’t want to be with him.

So instead, he stops moping around and tries to spend the final moments of his time in the Valley as well as he can. He hangs out with Trent, occasionally goes over to Paxton’s house, and even catches a show with El. 

Devi’s there, not in person of course, but he can feel her presence lingering, her scent, her laugh, everything about her, and as much as it squeezes his heart every time, he loves the way it hurts.

She texts him more as the days pass, and they don’t mention his ice cream shop breakdown. It’s almost as if they both know it was coming sooner or later, the big volcanic eruption they were trying to prevent, and now that it happened, it doesn’t need to be spoken of, broken down and beat to death. Instead, they send each other stupid memes or motivational quotes they find pathetic, careful to not touch any topic that could be painful.

It’s not enough, it’s not what he needs, but it’s something, and it’s better than having nothing.

-

They say time heals all wounds, and Ben wants to think he believes in it, he really does. He wants to think that enough time could pass and he could move on, become numb to the way his heart feels like it’s being stabbed whenever he sees her face.

They’re both in college now, a few months in, so it’s a new environment, and their text conversations have dwindled to a slow stop. He’s found a few people to surround himself with, more friends than he’s ever had before, and he even hopes they help him get over Devi.

He soon realizes it’s not the case. It’s uncanny, because he thinks he’s fine, he’s convinced he’s moving on, but then he sees her smiling face in her Snapchat stories, or sees a flash of black hair in the back of a grocery store, and he’s doing stupid things like replaying the story a million times, and running to the aisle only to come face to face with an Asian grandma.

So yeah, Ben doesn’t believe in that stupid saying. He thinks maybe it works for other people, but not for him.

-

She’s not supposed to be at Yale.

He’s at a shitty frat party, bodies pressed together and beer spilled on the inexplicably slimy ground, talking to his friends in a corner when he sees her. She’s clearly drunk, laughing and dancing with her friends a lot more freely than she does when sober. He likes looking at her from this distance, a safe distance, but then she turns and meets his eyes, and suddenly she freezes.

His heart, against his will, does the same.

She looks amazing, in a red tank top and black skirt, and he wants to be close to her. In the way that most college boys want to be close to girls, but also, in another way. A way that he believes, maybe, soulmates do.

So, he mutters an excuse to his friends, and ducks out of the party, heading out the front of the house to sit on the steps. 

She joins him a few minutes later, perching on the same step a few feet away from him, just like he knew she would.

“Forget what school you go to?” he asks, picking at the material of his khakis.

“You wish I did,” Devi replies, slight lilt in her voice due to the alcohol. “I’m just here to prove I’m smarter than you.” 

“Still on that train? Think it’d serve you better to get off.” 

“Gonna be on it my whole life, so sorry, but you can’t win.”

“Can’t get rid of you, huh?” 

“Nope.”

Ben chuckles a little. This is something he’s used to, he can do _this_. “What’re you gonna do, stalk me on Facebook when we’re forty to see where I’m working?”

“I have my ways. They’re more sophisticated than that, don’t you worry.”

“How can be they be sophisticated if they don’t even exist?”

“For one, you don’t stalk people on Facebook for professional information. That’s LinkedIn, you idiot.”

“I’m well aware. Alan Guth is one of my connections.

“You never stop with the name drops, do you?” she says, facing him.

“And you don’t with the pesky questions, huh?” he says back, half-smile on his face.

“Why did it take us this long to be able to talk to each other?” she asks, suddenly.

The question should be intensely shocking, but in a way that he doesn’t understand, it’s not. 

“You know why,” he manages to get out.

They both turn back to the night sky, listening to the opening notes of _Still Into You_ by Paramore start playing. This is the moment when he curses this specific frat for having halfway decent music taste.

“Ben?” she asks, softer than he’s ever heard her speak before.

“Devi,” he returns, matching her tone.

She pauses for a few seconds, and they both listen to the heavy beat of the drums, slightly muted by the thick walls.

“Nothing. I just—just kinda wanted to hear you say my name.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading <33


End file.
